These two Nick Hornby books—one collecting ten years of Hornby’s “Stuff I’ve Been Reading” column from the pages of the Believer, the other a reprint of his critically lauded collection of song profiles—would usually cost you upwards of fifty-five dollars. But your Crazy Uncle Casey, who has no real concept of money, will sell both of them to you for thirty bucks.

And until that twitching in Uncle Casey’s left eye stops, you can still get a subscription to the Believer, a Le Believer tote bag, and a copy of Judy Blume and Lena Dunham in Conversation—all for just $45. Just enter the code “TOTES” at checkout when you subscribe to the Believer today.

Kristen Iskandrian’s first novel, Motherest, is told in first-person by 18-year-old Agnes, who lives in “the middle of a New Jersey nowhere” and has just begun college in “the middle of a New England nowhere” in 1993.

I first saw Barbara Browning when she was naked, one hand extended to open a shower curtain, in our shared dorm bathroom, when we were both in our late teens. Barbara wore her hair short then, and her compact little body was so unapologetically whole, not a series of parts in the way I considered my own body to be.

In Visceral Poetics, poet Eleni Stecopolous' recent book on, among other things, struggling with chronic pain while trying to write a dissertation about Antonin Artaud and Paul Metcalf, Stecopolous writes about her frustration with being undiagnosable.